Book
Review
Jazzwomen:
Conversations with Twenty-One Musicians
Wayne
Enstice and Janis Stockhouse
Bloomington,
IN: Indiana UP, 2004
ISBN 10:
0-253-34436-0
ISBN 13:
978-0-253-34436-6
368 pages
plus audio companion CD
Reviewed
by Karl Coulthard, University of Guelph
In Jazzwomen, Wayne Enstice and Janis Stockhouse
have assembled a colourful collage of perspectives, opinions, and anecdotes
from a diverse selection of musicians, ranging widely across racial, national,
and socio-economic boundaries. Their interviewees include women from the United
States, Canada, Great Britain, and Germany and encompass both those who had the
privilege of stable, and often musical, families and those who struggled
through great poverty, illness, and discrimination (both gender and racial) as
children and adults. This book also provides the reader with a wide number of musical
perspectives, containing, in addition to several vocalists and pianists,
interviews with two trumpet players, two saxophonists, two drummers, two
Hammond B3 organists, a jazz violinist, and a composer/arranger.
Enstice and
Stockhouse, through their interviewing and editorial practices, prove to be
engaging storytellers. Taking advantage of the broad swath of life experiences
presented to them, they encourage their subjects to discuss their artistic
philosophies and to share some of the amusing and often bizarre occurrences
that seem to characterize life as a musician, thus providing for readers a more
nuanced portrait than would have been afforded by a simple polemic against the
state of women in jazz.
On the
subject of the amusing and bizarre, I think my favourite anecdote is one
related by saxophonist Virginia Mayhew. She describes an incident involving
pianist Jaki Byard when she was taking his class at the New School for Social
Research in New York. While Byard was soloing, Mayhew was softly practicing
something on her horn. Byard abruptly slammed down the piano and pulled out a
fourteen-inch machete: “He glares at us all and says, ‘Who’s playing!?!’ Everybody’s
petrified. He said, ‘Don’t play while I’m playing my solo, God damn it’” (216).
Mayhew only now confesses to being the offending party, “when he’s safely in
his grave” (216).
Regarding
artistic philosophy, Enstice and Stockhouse engage in some very intelligent and
probing dialogue with their subjects, many of whom express thoughtful insights
into the nature of musical improvisation and display a tenacious determination
for challenging the boundaries of their improvisational practice. Trumpeter Ingrid
Jensen states that her mission is “to make sure that everything I’m playing is
something that comes from deep inside, and there’s not a lick or a pattern that
I practiced. I find myself completely disappointed when I have to rely on
things that I know” (160), while vocalist Sheila Jordan rather audaciously
states, “Well, I don’t care about an audience. I know they pay the way and they
help make it happen, but I think my creativity has to come first” (174).
This
dialogue also often reveals significant instrumentally-specific ideas about
musical improvisation. Drummer Terri Lyne Carrington speaks about how, as a
member of the rhythm section, she mostly has to eschew the traditional
“showboating” of a soloist, yet is able to be equally creative in her role: “I
have always wanted to blend and be a part of the whole. That is stronger to me.
Let me add, however, that with quality interactive playing, I am using the same
skills as when soloing. It’s kind of like soloing with, or at the same time as,
the soloist” (58). Composer/arranger Maria Schneider similarly discusses her
subtle approach to writing music for improvising musicians, in contrast to
typical big band music: “I just don’t think in terms of ‘one of these boys’
when I’m writing chords. I’m thinking of them as sonorities; I’m thinkin’
about, ‘Ooh, how does this feel, where’s it gonna go,’ you know, ‘what’s the
tension?’ It’s a much more inside kind of feeling as opposed to impact: ‘Ooh,
that’s solid’” (274).
When the
discussion does turn to issues of gender discrimination in jazz, opinions
remain conflicting and diverse. Several musicians confront the treatment of
women musicians in jazz, with male agents and producers bearing the bulk of the
criticism rather than male musicians. Saxophonist Jane Ira Bloom gives a
particularly powerful critique of the sexism “in the covert language of what
femininity is,” describing how many critics unknowingly employ “denigrating
covert references to women” (11) that form an insidious part of the vocabulary
of jazz criticism.
Others,
however, are more supportive of the predominance of men in jazz. Trumpeter
Clora Bryant says, “I don’t know of any female that’s been an innovator” (39),
while vocalist Abbey Lincoln, in one of the most memorable and controversial
moments in the book, earnestly defends the role of the black man in jazz:
“Women are made to bring children here! She brings the human being, imbues it
with her spirit and everything. He builds the outside world, and she makes the
people . . . nobody’s trying to play like Hazel Scott. Nobody’s trying to play
like Mary Lou Williams. They were wonderful and famous, but nobody is trying to
play like any of them. They’re not the rivers. The men are the ones. The rivers
are Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell—these are the ones that people are trying to
play like” (208).
The one
instance of concord lies in a universal disdain for all-women jazz bands, a
concept that Jensen refers to as a “freak show” (157). Many of the interviewees
articulate their frustration with being displayed as novelty acts, and all are
united in the opinion that “jazzwomen” should first and foremost be regarded as
artists and musicians. As Schneider states, “if mentorship is truly important,
it’s important for young girls to see women working with no special fuss about
them” (276).
Accompanying
this book is an audio CD containing ten selections performed and composed by
some of the women interviewed here. These tracks display impressive
musicianship and creativity across a wide spectrum of musical styles and do
more to emphasize the extraordinary talent of these musicians than any
interview ever could. One track in particular merits the special attention of
the listener. “Knee Deep in the Blues” was recorded by vocalist Teri Thornton
less than four months before she passed away from cancer and constitutes an
amazing expression of courage and fortitude in the face of illness and death.
In reading
the biographies that precede each interview in Jazzwomen, I was particularly struck by the
many significant musical associations and collaborations that these women have
had with iconic jazz figures such as Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, Anthony
Braxton, Art Blakey, Benny Goodman, Stan Getz, and Charles Mingus. Through the
weight of the evidence presented to the reader, rather than through any
rhetorical strategies or sociological debates, Enstice and Stockhouse reveal
that the main problem in the public perception of women in jazz is not a
resistance to their potential future roles, but a failure to recognize the profound
impact that these musicians have already had on the genre.
ISSN: 1712-0624
